


Looking Through Ice

by AnonymousPresence



Series: Amon's Bitter, Thawing, Heart [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Remorse, Sympathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:48:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPresence/pseuds/AnonymousPresence
Summary: Noatak was winning. But when it came down to a small airbending child, he couldn't press his thumb to her little tiny forehead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after the first season of The Legend of Korra. This one-shot is the updated, 'canon-ish' version of Looking Through Glass.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> c:

 

* * *

**I always thought you were weak—**

* * *

 

Her face was smaller than his hand.

His _goddamned_ hand!

How was that even _possible_?

The army of chi blockers in metal suits had wiped out the obstacles such as the Metal Bending Police Force, the Council, the Task Force, and even the Avatar.

He was getting everything he wanted; everything that his _father_ had wanted. Yakone would have been so proud of him. He wasn't some child who was terrified or too weak to force another's blood to curl at his command.

No, he was not like his _brother—_

—but he wasn't like his father either.

Obsessed, his father was. Forcing over and over for his sons to become more and more like him. To be _strong_ like him. To be _fearless_ like him. To be _merciless_  like him. There were days where he felt something looming over him; forcing, oppressing, _demanding_ —

But the look on the little girl's face forced the man to pause. His thumb had pressed against all of the other air benders; now she was the only one left. He had obliged the benders to their knees, in front on him, and faced their last breath as a bender.

He was becoming the most powerful bender in the _world_ ; he was becoming the _only_ bender in the world.

The benders all whined, prayed, begged, cried, whimpered, screamed, struggled, and bribed, everything to get themselves free of their non-bending life. It was pathetic really; it was like he was going to _kill_ them—

But not this girl; she did have fear painted on her face. However, her eyes were fixed on her collapsed father, full on concern.

By the _gods_ —her expression reminded him painfully of young  _Tarrlok's_ face; so worried about Mother, not giving a damn about bending—about their _father_. He could have never blood bended like Noatak could. He couldn't force the hot blood to his command, to make it halt it's flow, to make them _suffer_ —

She was afraid for _him_. Not herself.

 _No_ , he could not stop this now. Not because of this girl. He had to avenge his father—his _mother_ —even for his brother. He _had_ to. He was always protecting him, even if that meant taking away the power he hated so much.

Stepping forward toward the child, who was easily taken to her small little young knees, Amon stretched his hand out, taking a notice towards the size of her face again. His hand slowly twisted and power surged to his fingertips. He could feel her blood; pumping and full of life. His thumb stretched out and was centimeters from above the bridge of her little nose—

"—Is daddy going to be okay?"

Her voice was loud—possibly annoying if he was being honest, but it was rasp, like she was trying to be _strong_ —strong for her father and for her brother and sister. He paused with a heavy hesitation as the girl finally tore her eyes from her father who laid motionless on the ground. Her light colored hues stared up at him; her tears finally trickling down her red stained cheek.

Noatak had seen so many benders cry.

They cried for their bending—not even their lives—but their bending.

This kid could care less.

She cried for her father's current state. She cried because he was not moving. She cried because she didn't understand. She cried because she was scared for _him_. He could imagine why it must seemed like to her. So young, so blissfully ignorant. How was she to know? Too know her father was going to be alive?

How was she to understand that the world was truly cruel?

He remembered when Tarrlok cried for the sake of others.

"Is he going to be okay?!" she wailed again, shutting her eyes with a loud sniff. Snot and tears continued to roll down her face before she opened them again, gazing at the older air bender. "Is he _alive_?"

 

_Tarrlok gasped, his eyes wide with shock, disgust, and unshed tears._

_'STOP!_

_YOU'RE HURTING IT!'_

The lips behind the masked briefly parted to let out an audible sigh. Moving his hand away from the girl's forehead, he flicked his wrists and the chi blockers released the kid without and ounce of hesitation.

A normal person would had ran away from Noatak; that, or attack him, but she simply let herself slump on her thighs before she rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her air bending attire. She sniffed loudly in front on him.

 

_'BLOOD BEND YOUR BROTHER!' His father demanded, but Tarrlok shook his head, determined, yet so afraid._

 

He felt a small pressure on his arm. Looking down through the mask that had terrified many, she weakly tugged him along towards her father.

What the hell?

 

_'NO! I WONT DO IT!'_

 

He could have shoved her away, rip his arm out of her tiny little fingers. It would have been easy; she was just so small. He could even grip her blood and toss her away like she was completely _nothing_. He could have simply walked away; he could take her bending away; but he _couldn't_ —

—he could have. Just like Tarrlok could have fought him all those years ago.

But he _didn't_.

Tarrlok was much stronger than him; he valued his brother's health; his life—

—just like this child.

He allowed the child to cling to him, forcing himself to ignore his army watching incredulously. Following the child as she basically crawled, Amon kept her from falling over when she hiccuped, air sending her backwards. Why didn't he hate the small bending child?

 

_Tarrlok only shook his head; his clenched fists shaking, his shoulders trembling._

_'That felt awful. I don't want to do that to anyone'_

 

It felt like forever had passed when the weak child crawled to the older air bender.

"Daddy," she whined as she leaned her head against her father's calm rising and falling chest.

He was still breathing; still alive.

 

_'Let's run away together.'_

 

When she calmed down, the all mighty fake 'Equalist Leader' knelt down and placed his hand on her head, trying to give some comfort; even if it was awkward.

"What's your name?" He asked, trying not to be as intimidating as possible.

 

_'Run away? But what about mom? We can't just leave her!'_

 

"Ikki," The kid replied, looking up towards him with pure, hopeful, innocent eyes.

'Well, Ikki, you're father is going to be fine."

 

_'Father was right about you,' he spat. "You are a weakling.'_

 

* * *

**—you were always stronger.**

* * *

 


End file.
